


Hunter

by Lady Angel (dameange)



Series: Hunter Series [1]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-06
Updated: 2010-09-06
Packaged: 2017-10-11 12:52:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/112615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dameange/pseuds/Lady%20Angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reid's stalker likes to leave him gifts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunter

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Hannibal.

  
"Hello, Spencer."

Half desperately wanting to hang up, half utterly fascinated by the man, Spencer Reid swallowed, griping the phone even tighter. "Hello, Aaron."

"How are you today?" Deep, smooth, cultured voice purring the question.

"I'm fine. And you?"

"I find myself missing you, Spencer."

Reid closed his eyes, unoccupied hand clenching around his kitchen table as he mostly played along. "You're always welcome to visit, Aaron, you know that."

Smokey laughter that sent shivers down his spine. "Oh, Spencer, I would. Only if it was just you and me."

"I could--"

Pleased, thoroughly amused laughter stopped him. "Oh, Spencer, only if you could. Goodbye, sweetheart."

He listened to the dial tone for one split second before dialing. "Garcia, did we get him?"

"Oh honey, no, we didn't. The trace bounced all over. . . ."

He barely listened, barely heard, still hearing that voice in his head, feeling phantom hands covered in blood but loving his body so sweet.

  
~*~*~*~*~*~

  
"Hello, Spencer, did you find my gift?"

Reid tried to ignore the busy activity buzzing around him. Cops and CSIs documenting the scene, not a single one trying too hard to find evidence. After all, they all knew who did this, they all knew who the killer was. He had left his calling card: a single, perfect white rose and a poem addressed to Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid of the FBI's BA unit. "Yes, Aaron, I did."

"Another rose for your collection."

He didn't touch the petals but knew they would be soft and fragrant. "Yes, another one."

  
~*~*~*~*~*~

  
Spencer was a beautiful, brilliant young man. A heavy sleeper because he never slept enough, so utterly dedicated to the job, to the chase. He brushed his fingers through softly burnished hair, enjoying the silken rasp against his fingertips. Even smoother, softer skin behind the vulnerable hollow of his ear, begging to be kissed. Helpless to resist, he pressed reverent kisses to skin and lips, the barest touch to savor the taste of this slumbering loveliness.

Pulling the duvet up closer, cocooning Spencer in warmth, he stole one last kiss before stealing away.

  
~*~*~*~*~*~

  
Reid woke to quiet, sultry jazz drifting through his apartment, the smell of heavenly lasagna clinging to the notes. Candlelight illuminated white linen, bone china, and sterling silver. Ruby wine in a crystal goblet, white roses in a delicate vase, heavy cotton rag bearing a simple note: Spencer, eat, rest. Doors and windows still locked, security system still activated.

He wanted to throw it all away, to call the others, report this, have it all taken away by forensics. Instead, he served himself perfectly done pasta, knowing nothing of forensic use would be found in the food, in the tablescape. Five times he told the others about the gifts, brought them into the labs to be tested and documented, five times nothing was found.

Now, he no longer told the others. Didn't tell anyone about the meals left on a semi-regular basis, never a pattern but predictable all the same, showing up after a particularly bad case. Didn't tell them about the sinful sheets that had appeared on his bed, blushing even as he sank into high count softness, thinking about the provocative note found on his pillow.

_Sleep naked for me._

~*~*~*~*~*~

  
He studied the pale beauty spread across navy blue sheets, naked except for the top sheet, clinging to the small, high curve of Spencer's ass. Took pleasure in knowing the younger man never slept naked before, only doing so at his request. Aaron locked the wide, special cuffs around slim, slim wrists before shedding his own clothes. Flicking the sheet aside, he savored the drag of skin on skin, blanketing his lover's body with his own. Smiled into unruly curls as Spencer blinked awake, body still soft with sleep. "I missed you, Spencer."

"Aaron?" Adorable little frown when he realized he couldn't move his arms, glaring up at the cuffs and chain attached to the headboard. Hazel eyes no longer sleep-muddled eyed him. "Aaron, let me go."

He slid down Spencer's body, pausing at the sweet small of his back, pressing his lips into it, licking the sensitive skin, loving the gasps of pleasure from above. "No," he said, smiling into the little dip, surging back up. "No, I don't think I will."

Spencer gasped into his mouth this time, falling into deep kisses, not fighting Aaron at all. He worshiped his lover that night, sweeping hands and reverent lips. Loved him until his back was a needful curve, pleas falling from trembling lips, hands fighting against his bonds, desperate to touch as to be touched. Long legs spread, slim hips enticed with every shift, every squirm. He loved it all, wanted it all, wringing cries and whimpers with every sultry touch. But Aaron loved the cooing best, the sibilant sound as he sank deep inside, the joyful relaxation of Spencer's face. Loved the cry of his name as Spencer climaxed even more, the last thing he heard before following him into bliss.

He unlatched the cuffs, smiling as Spencer's hands immediately sank into his hair and curled around his shoulder. Never once did they stray to the button that would bring the police from downstairs. He kissed him, claiming, marking, devouring. The hitch of breath pulled him back. Aaron touched the tears slowly falling down sex flushed skin. "Sweetheart?"

Spencer's voice was thick with emotion but his eyes were focused through the gleam of tears. "Why can't I hate you?"

  
~*~*~*~*~*~

  
VIGILANTE STRIKES AGAIN

The newspapers all screamed the same headline. The news shows all showed the same yet different clips of people's reactions. Most thought the vigilante was an answer to a prayer, others thought him just another dangerous criminal. A dichotomy, a contradiction. A serial killer of child molesters, the predator of pedophiles.

Once, a man of the law, now driven past the breaking point by the rape and murder of his only son.

Once Reid's lover, now his prey.

The End


End file.
